“Not much. Father was very angry because he went to Alaska in the first place, you know, and they haven’t ever written very often.”
“Fifty thousand! And you’ve got it now?”
“Not yet—all of it. They sent me a thousand—just for pin money, they said. The lawyer’s written several times, and he’s been here once. I believe it’s all to come next month.”
“Oh, I’m so glad, Maggie,” breathed Flora. “I’m so glad! I don’t know of anybody I’d rather see take a little comfort in life than you!”
At the door, fifteen minutes later, Miss Flora said again how glad she was; but she added wistfully:—
“I’m sure I don’t know, though, what I’m going to do all summer without you. Just think how lonesome we’ll be—you gone to Chicago, Hattie and Jim and all their family moved to Plainville, and even Mr. Smith gone, too! And I think we’re going to miss Mr. Smith a whole lot, too. He was a real nice man. Don’t you think so, Maggie?”
“Indeed, I do think he was a very nice man!” declared Miss Maggie. “Now, Flora, I shall want you to go shopping with me lots. Can you?”
And Miss Flora, eagerly entering into Miss Maggie’s discussion of frills and flounces, failed to notice that Miss Maggie had dropped the subject of Mr. Smith somewhat hastily.
Hillerton had much to talk about during those summer days. Mr. Smith’s going had created a mild discussion—the “ancestor feller” was well known and well liked in the town. But even his departure did not arouse the interest that was bestowed upon the removal of the James Blaisdells to Plainville; and this, in turn, did not cause so great an excitement as did the news that Miss Maggie Duff had inherited fifty thousand dollars and had gone to Chicago to spend it. And the fact that nearly all who heard this promptly declared that they hoped she would spend a good share of it—in Chicago, or elsewhere—on herself, showed pretty well just where Miss Maggie Duff stood in the hearts of Hillerton.
. . . . . .